


The Man in the Mirror Might Not be Me

by NewSoul



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, TenToo - Freeform, other universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 03:42:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2009616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewSoul/pseuds/NewSoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just your standard post Bad Wolf Bay, domestic Tentoo/Rose ficlet with some angst and fluff! Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Man in the Mirror Might Not be Me

**Author's Note:**

> Once again this hasn't been betaed or brit-picked so if y'all see anything wrong, you know what to do! This is my first Who ficlet so let me know what you think in the comments please and thanks in advance!

He was staring in a mirror, and he couldn’t recognize the man gazing back at him. _No, that’s not right, I know what I look like_ he said to himself as he ran his hands through his mussed brown hair, _it’s not that I don’t recognize myself… it’s that I don’t know who I am._ Suddenly the mirror shatters and flies past him, the reflective shards biting into his face and hands.

Curiosity, the one trait he knows is inherently his, forces him to turn and face the direction the glass slivers blew. He freezes as he sees the scene before him. _Her,_ His hearts ( _no heart, you’ve only got one now,_ he berates himself) explodein relief; _if she is here she’ll know what to do_. He calls to her but she cannot hear him, she keeps walking… _straight into the vortex swirling in front of them both._ He screams her name, tears stinging his eyes and cuts from the mirror burning his hands and face. There is a brilliant flash of light as hundreds of his years pass before his eyes. Every drop of pain, every ounce of fear, hits him all at once as he continues to scream.

“Doctor!” shouts Rose. “Doctor, wake up!”

The Doctor gasps as he wakes, panting and dripping with sweat. He looks into Rose’s eyes, her hazel meeting his deep brown in his disorientation. It’s the concern and compassion in her gaze that grounds him, brings him back to reality from his nightmare. “Rose,” he breathes, still shivering in the aftershocks of the dream. Her name is all he can manage as he trembles, _Christ being human is difficult,_ he thinks as he begins to breathe normally and realizes where he is. They were in his bedroom, just his for now, Rose’s was down on the other end of the hall. _I must have been pretty loud for her to hear me._

“Are you alright?” ventures Rose, placing her hand on his unsteady shoulder.

The Doctor takes a deep breath before he answers. “Yes,” he replies, leaning into her touch, “just a nightmare.”

“Oh,” she speaks, her voice barely a whisper, “that’s the third one this week,” she continues, flicking on the lamp. The Doctor had been having these dreams on a somewhat regular basis since he’d moved in… since Bad Wolf Bay. It seemed to her that they were getting worse but the Doctor would never admit it. “Do you want to talk about it?” she attempts.

_No,_ he immediately thinks, _there’s no one who I can speak to about this._ Human- time lord metacrises aren’t just something that happens every day. _I’m as close to human as I’ve ever been and still alone in this universe._ The Doctor looks away from Rose’s eyes in shame.

“Hey,” she says, smirking, “what’s going on it that big time lord head of yours?”

The Doctor looks back up and sees her faint smile and realizes that in all of time and space there is no one who he can talk to… _no one but her._ Rose had saved his life so many times and in so many ways, she has literally been to the ends of the universe and beyond with him. _Even in all of that she is still here_ he thinks _still saving me_. Rose had been with him in his best and his worst and… _wait… no that wasn’t me that was him._

“Do you want me to leave?” she asks, interrupting his inner monologue.

“No!” he ejaculates as he realizes that what scares him the most is Rose leaving. “Please,” he pleads.

“Ok,” she reassures him, “but you’ve got to tell me about your dream.” Sly bargaining, that’s the Rose Tyler he knew, the one who was just as much of a match for him as a dalek. The Doctor surrenders. Only for Rose would he do this, just for her.

“It was about you,” He whispers, he doesn’t trust his voice to not crack if he speaks any louder. “Rose, who… what do you think I am?”

“What about me? And don’t be daft you’re the Doctor.” She replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“I dreamt that I lost you because I’m not… I don’t think I’m the Doctor,” and that’s when his voice breaks.

“Of course you are.” She replies with an easygoing smile. “You said so yourself, you _and_ the other you.”

“But-“

“Now don’t you start with buts,” she interrupted. “You remember the first place you took me, right after you regenerated?” she questioned.

“I- I took you to New Earth,” he replied.

“Tell me what it smelled like,” She pushed, “what did you tell me?”

The Doctor paused, sifting through nearly a thousand years of memories that still felt foreign, “I told you that it was apple grass,” he ventured, “you said that you’d never get used to the new ground under your feet,” the doctor continued reminiscing, the corners of his mouth turning up at the memory.

“And you remember that, yeah? The smell, us lying out and looking at New, New York,” and he did. He remembered the sweet smell of the fresh cut apple grass, the bay stretched out in front of them, the wind through his and Rose’s hair. His smile grew.

“Actually it’s New, New, New, New, New, New-“

“Alright now stop that,” laughed Rose, lightly punching him in the arm as he joined in her mirth. Rose sat down on the bed with him and pulled him into a hug. “You remember it because you were there and you are the Doctor. You’re my Doctor,” She planted a kiss on his cheek, “and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Oh, Rose,” said the doctor as he turned into the hug and wrapped his arms tightly around Rose, his Rose, “what would I do without you to set me right?”

“Crash and burn,” she replied sarcastically. The Doctor tilted his head and pulled her into a kiss, because he could do that now. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to this, being able to love her this way, letting her love him back. After a while they broke apart, panting at the loss of breath.

“You have to still be tired, it’s nearly three in the morning,” stated Rose as she kissed him one more time and started to leave.

“Wait!” blurted the Doctor, grabbing Rose’s hand before she could leave. “Please, will you stay?”

Rose just smiled, turned back the TARDIS blue duvet (she’d bought it just for him), curled up on the Doctors chest, and clicked out the light, “of course… my Doctor.”


End file.
